


The Long Brown Coat

by beta1alpha2omega3



Series: Salvation [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Miranda/Rip Hunter Mentioned, Rip Hunter Being an Asshole, this will not end well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23795956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beta1alpha2omega3/pseuds/beta1alpha2omega3
Summary: This is the story of how Rip and Jonah met in Calvert 1868.-It was Rip's fifth solo mission, and it was exhilarating.  It was 1868 in a town called Calvert.  Rip had always idealized the old west--the danger, the excitement, the heroism-- but now he was getting to live it.  He had always felt slightly claustrophobic in the large metal structures the time masters were always holed up in.  Gideon was the only thing that made the Waverider feel even a smidge like home;  But the old west, was open land, fresh air that smelled of dirt, whiskey, and something that Rip thought was probably warm animal manure.  His mission was to assure the death of a man named Arthur Ridge.  Ridge was supposed to burn alive in a church fire set by a local gang.  Rip was there to make sure everything went smoothly.-
Relationships: Jonah Hex/Rip Hunter
Series: Salvation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714408
Kudos: 3





	1. 1868

**Author's Note:**

> This story isn't going to end well.  
> I did a lot of editing and rewriting, so if something seems choppy or out of place, feel free to let me know.  
> Because of all the editing, I did cut a lot of the romantic scenes between Jonah and Rip because they felt out of place and I'm not the best at writing those types of scenes, but I was still very attached to them, so I figured I would post a second chapter just for the deleted scenes that didn't make the final cut.
> 
> Here are two terms you may want to know for the time period.-
> 
> Dude-a city slicker
> 
> Free lunch- saloons would offer a free lunch with the purchase of at least one drink

It was Rip's fifth solo mission, and it was exhilarating. It was 1868 in a town called Calvert. Rip had always idealized the old west--the danger, the excitement, the heroism-- but now he was getting to live it. He had always felt slightly claustrophobic in the large metal structures the time masters were always holed up in. Gideon was the only thing that made the Waverider feel even a smidge like home; But the old west, was open land, fresh air that smelled of dirt, whiskey, and something that Rip thought was probably warm animal manure. His mission was to assure the death of a man named Arthur Ridge. Ridge was supposed to burn alive in a church fire set by a local gang. Rip was there to make sure everything went smoothly. 

It was Rip's first day there, so the first thing he did was go to the town saloon to get a drink and listen to the pianist, maybe even watch a fight ensue. He wanted to interact with the locals, but he knew he couldn't as to not risk the timeline. He was a decent actor, but he had never been good at accents. If he spoke too much, he would stick out like a sore thumb. So he decided it was best to just drink alone and people watch. He was at the bar with a shot glass in front of him surveying the building, there was a group of men playing cards--poker, Rip had decided--there was a waitress waiting tables, and a couple of women from the whore house walking around soliciting their services at different tables. He had a short conversation with the barkeep, Rip talking as little as possible. The barkeep was an older gentleman with an educated look to him. He had silver running through his tight curls and from what Rip heard, his talents were obviously wasted on this job, however, there weren't a lot of jobs in the west to fill so he probably had no other choice. From what Rip had gathered from his conversation with the man, he was a former slave who had been freed by the end of the war. He moved to Oklahoma from Missouri and was now the barkeeper of this small town. Rip wanted to have a longer conversation with the man, not only to gather information on the whereabouts of a certain Arthur Ridge but to also hear about the time period, however, he started to get the feeling that someone was watching him. Rip looked around subtly to see who it was, it took a while of scanning the room for him to finally catch a glimpse of someone in a booth in the darkest corner of the room. The man was wearing a hat and a long brown coat, he was drinking a glass of scotch, casually keeping an eye on the room, it was almost like he was searching for someone. Rip turned back to the bar, but as soon as he did, he felt the man watching him again. The man was surrounded by darkness, making it so Rip couldn't see his face. Rip was getting suspicious of this man, worried he was on to the fact that Rip didn't belong, he became distracted, however, when he heard shouting start in the streets.

Rip was curious so he went out to look. There were four men outside. One man, who looked like he was in his sixties, had grey hair and wrinkles from what looked like a long, hard life. He was pleading about something, but the other men didn't seem to care, they looked gruff and dirty. He heard the man who looked like the leader say "you just ran outta' luck, son". The leader was a Caucasian male who had dark hair with streaks of silver and a beard that came off his chin in a point. The leader raised a gun to the old man's head. Without thinking, Rip jumped into action. As swiftly as he could, Rip pulled out his revolver and shot the gun out of the bearded man's hand. That was a mistake. The two men behind him immediately started shooting at Rip. Rip felt a heavy jolt on his chest, and he was on the ground. It took him a moment before he woke from his confused haze to see a man lying over him, staring at him. He was ruggedly handsome, he had a bit of peppered stubble and wore a hat that blocked the sun out of Rips eyes. Rip noticed the brown jacket he wore and realized who he was. 

"You good?" the man spoke, the sound of shots being fired rang all around them. Rip realized what had happened and gathered himself enough to nod in response. The man had tackled him behind a wagon filled with barrels. "Well then, that was mighty stupid of ya." The man let out a soft chuckle. Then he quickly got up and pulled Rip with him. 

"The name's Hex, Jonah Hex. And who might you be?" he said in a gravelly voice as he pulled a gun from his holster. 

"Rip Hunter." Rip still looked slightly dazed and confused, his head still full of cotton. 

Jonah took a shot from around the wagon then ducked behind it again, waiting for another opening. 

"You aint' from around here is ya'?" He asked, listening for another break in shots. Much to Rips future dismay, they had distracted the gang long enough for the elderly man to escape, but now they were the targets of the crews attention.

"No, I'm not." Rip said almost laughing at how quickly it took someone to notice. He took a shot of his own pistol, grazing one of the men, though it wasn't enough for the man to stop shooting. "What the hell is wrong with these people!?" He exclaimed. 

"They're part of the Turnbull crew, the man with the goatee and the hat o'er there..." Hex motioned with his head. "is Quentin Turnbull. That man musta' been real important for him to've showed up himself, instead'a delagate'n it to someone else." Hex explained. "They been tormentin' this town for o'er a year now. "

The two heard a pause in fire so they jumped out and hit both men with a rain of bullets. Turnbull had disappeared and was nowhere to be seen. Rip and Hex easily took care of the cronies.

"Aaargh!" Jonah screamed in anger and threw his pistol to the ground when they had finished the group off.

"Are you alright?" Rip asked with a lack of concern in his voice.

"He got away!"

"Who?" Rip wasn't sure if he was talking about Turnbull or the old man.

"Turnbull! I been trackin' him for three months! Now he knows my face!" Jonah yelled at Rip.

"I'm terribly sorry." Rip said unapologetically. "Perhaps I can help you find him again?" He suggested, this time sincerely. You see, Rip knew if he could find Turnbull, whilst also keeping an eye on the one man who may possibly be able to change the events soon to unfold, he would give himself the best advantage he could have. 

"Findin' him isn't the problem. It's gett'n a chance to kill him that's the problem." Jonah said, picking his gun up and reloading it. 

"Well, I'll help you do that, then." Rip knew he had to stay close to Hex so that he didn't get the chance to kill Turnbull. There was something about this man that raised alarms in Rips head. Something about him that told Rip that if he didn't keep an eye on this man, history could change. 

"Absolutely not." Hex turned to walk away.

"Please, let me repay my debt to you." Rip tried. 

Jonah thought on this for a moment. "Hmn. Alright, but you do as I say, and noth'n more. And I aint responsible for your very likely death!" He said before putting his gun in his holster and walking to the saloon. 

"Sounds fair." Rip said, then followed Hex, not sure what He wanted him to do. Apparently following was the right decision.

"You got a place?" Jonah asked as he sat down at the bar. He motioned at the barkeep for two shots. The barkeeper slid one across the counter to Rip and one to Jonah. 

"Yes." Rip answered.

"Good, you're gonna be here a while." Hex said, swigging his shot down in one gulp. 

Rip already knew that but hearing the words made him happy, he had always loved the West in movies and scenarios he was put in while training for the time masters. He loved the chaos and order of the whole era, he loved the freedom and opportunity.

Jonah got up and started out of the saloon again. "Get some rest, we start tomorrow."

Rip looked at him confused. "It's three thirty, what am I supposed to do before then? And where will I find you tomorrow?" 

Jonah shrugged. "You're your own person aint ya? Do whatever you do. You can find me back here at six. We'll eat here then head out at seven." He started down the street, opposite of Rip.

Rip didn't want Hex to continue his search without him, but he knew there was nothing he could really do. Rip knew a little of the bounty hunter, Jonah Hex, from history lessons with the time masters and a quick briefing of people he may run into on this mission, so he knew Hex would spot him if Rip followed the man to keep an eye on him. Because of this new development in his plans, that he hadn't prepared for, Rip felt lost, he didn't have a lot of 'free time' as a time master, so he really didn't know what to do with himself. He decided he would go back to the Waverider and talk to Gideon. 

~

"Gideon, how long has it been? What time is it? That's what I'm really trying to ask." Rip was sitting in his office leaning his chair back with his feet on the desk and a hat over his face. 

"It's been seventeen minutes captain, it is now 4:32PM." Gideon answered. "May I suggest some activities for you to do?"

"Yes please, Gideon, thank you." Rip sat up straight, took his feet off the desk, and his hat fell into his hands. 

"You could play cards, a video game, do research on Turnbull and his crew, practice the art of baking cakes..." Rip cut Gideon off.

"Stop right there Gideon! I shall decorate cakes WHILE learning about Turnbull. Fabricate the ingredients and start talking!" He said flipping his finger in the air.

"You get a little wacky when you're bored and alone Captain." Gideon remarked.

"But I'm not alone Gideon, I have you."

"Awe, I'm flattered." Gideon joked.

~

Rip woke up to the sound of Gideon playing a downloadable alarm sound that she had discovered in 2086 that she enjoyed waking Rip up to. Rip hated it. 

"Gideon, would you mind shutting that off please?" 

"Yes, captain." and the music stopped playing. "You should be going soon, it's almost 5:30AM."

"Thank you Gideon, what time is it exactly?" Rip asked as he walked around changing into his western clothes.

"5:24 captain. And it's a beautiful morning might I add. Will I be seeing you tonight?"

"Yes, Gideon, You should." He walked out of his room and made his way off the ship. "Camouflage, would you Gideon?" 

"Yes captain. Don't forget to stay hydrated, dehydration is a leading cause of death out here."

"Thanks for looking after me, Gideon." rip chuckled amused.

~

Rip saw Jonah Hex standing in front of the saloon, he was leaning against the wall waiting. It was a frosty morning, but the sun was shining. Rip could see his breath in the cold. There was a bite in the air, but Gideon wasn't wrong, it was a beautiful morning. The sun was still rising, shooting beams of orange light across the town, making the frost on the ground shimmer.

When Jonah noticed Rip he tipped his hat as a hello, then he started in. Rip followed him into the saloon. The saloon had a musty smell mixed with sweat and liquor. Jonah led him to a table and sat down. He motioned with his head to a chair across from him for Rip to sit. Jonah ordered drinks.

"Are you planning on just drinking for breakfast?" Rip asked.

"Yeah. what of it?" Hex answered.

"Fine, but I'm going to need a little more than just liquor to satisfy me." Rip said. He heard Jonah sigh, then take a quick swig and his 'breakfast' was gone. He stood up and walked out. Rip quickly got out of his chair and followed.

"Where are you going?" He asked, realizing that this non-verbal communication was going to be a frequent occurrence.

Jonah stopped in his tracks and sighed again. "Goin' somewhere where we can find food." He answered starting back up again. Rip gave a small smile and started into a jog to catch up.

Jonah showed Rip to a restaurant. They sat down and ordered some eggs, toast, and oats for Jonah's horse. Rip put beans on his toast and Jonah looked at him like he was the strangest thing Jonah had ever seen. "You're ruinin' it." He said.

"No, it's good, you should try it." Rip offered his bread up. Jonah looked disgusted and pushed Rip's hand away.

"Whatever, it's your loss." Rip teased. Jonah ignored him and started eating his own food.

When they were done eating in silence Jonah asked Rip a question.

"You're the strangest feller I've ever met, where're you from?" 

"Britain." Rip lied. He knew that his accent was British from his adopted mother, and he figured Jonah had never been, so he decided that was a good story. 

"Do they all act like you over there?" Jonah asked.

"No, I'm sort of an outcast, I don't quite fit in there, although I suppose I don't fit in anywhere really." Rip answered, hoping that would be enough for Jonah. It was. 

"you sure do share a lot." Jonah said. Rip internally laughed, he was giving Hex nothing.

"You asked. besides I really didn't share much, only that I'm one of kind." Rip gave a wink and a smile. Rip didn't know why he had done that, it really wasn't like him, Jonah just made him uncomfortable. He was a wild card that Rip hadn't been able to prepare for. Rip hated being unprepared. Or perhaps, it was Jonahs personality that made Rip feel as though he had to balance things out by being his opposite. Jonah was quite, gruff, blunt, and angry, forcing Rip to be talkative, friendly, eloquent, and humorous. Most of the time, however, Rip had a lot in common with Jonah. They were both secretive; quiet, preferring to listen before speaking; stubborn; set in their ways; arrogant; and incredibly wily. 

Jonah chuckled then gave a quick nod in agreement before moving on to telling Rip what he knew about Turnbull's gang.

~

Jonah had gotten a tip on where the Turnbull crew had been hiding out. He met back up with Rip who had been looking for information on the other side of town. Jonah walked up behind Rip who was talking with a tailor about Turnbull.

"I got something." He said, startling Rip, who almost jumped. Jonah let out a small snicker at Rips reaction.

"Did I scare you?" Jonah poked. 

"No. But you startled me." Rip wasn't rising to the bait.

Jonah told Rip his info and they decided to check it out. It was only noon so they had time, the camp was only five miles out, and by horse it wouldn't take long. 

"Come on." Jonah gestured for Rip to follow him. He walked Rip to the auburn horse drinking in front of a shop. Rip walked over to it and pet its side as it drank. The horse looked over at him. 

"Hello beautiful." Rip said to the horse. "Why are we here, Mr. Hex?" He asked.

"Her name's Auburn, we're gonna ride her." Jonah told Rip.

"Ah, she's yours? Fitting name." Rip was astounded by Jonah's ability to look at an animal and name it the first thing that he see's. He was starting to gather that Jonah was bad at naming things. 

"Mhm. You know how to ride, dude?" Jonah asked.

"Of course." As a Timemaster, Rip had been taught how to ride the number one method of transportation used for over hundreds to thousands of years. 

"We'll find you a horse later, but for now, you ride with me." Jonah said, getting on his horse and holding out a hand to help Rip up.

They rode to the camp to gather any information they could on Turnbull and his plans. 

~

This went on for a few days before they found a place for Rip to buy his own horse. "What're you gonna name him?" Jonah asked. 

"Obsidian." Rip smiled, looking at the jet black horse. "I thought it was only fitting. I want to match the theme, Auburn and Obsidian." Jonah laughed at this.

"You try'na be my twin Rip Hunn'er?" Rip enjoyed the way Jonah said his name, he wasn't sure if he found it amusing or endearing, all he knew was that he liked it. He had enjoyed spending time with Jonah for the past few days, he knew he would miss it when he would have to leave.

They made their way to the camp again, however they got there later than expected. Meaning, they'd get back very late at night, which in turn, would give them a later start the next morning.

~

They were near Turnbull's camp, it was late. Jonah was acting grumpy and Rip wasn't happy about it. It was starting to get on his nerves. "Would you stop mumbling please." Rip asked as they settled into their usual spot. Jonah's face twisted in a way Rip had never seen it do before. "What's wrong?" Rip asked.

"We've been wait'n for a chance ta' get Turnbull alone, but it aint' happen yet." Jonah complained.

"Yes, I know why we're here, Jonah." Rip teased. But Jonah just glared at him. He obviously wasn't in the mood for their usual banter, so Rip backed off. 'Different approach.' Rip thought. "I get that it's frustrating, but we just need to be patient, something _will_ come along." Rip tried.

"You don't have to be here you know." Jonah said.

"Don't lash out at me because you're upset." Rip wasn't going to take that, even though he would do the same exact thing if the roles were reversed. He knew he had to put his foot down so it didn't become a pattern, and he was right, it hardly ever happened again.

"Sorry." Jonah said quietly.

"Why don't we do something to get your mind off of it? Do you have any cards?" Rip asked. Jonah shook his head. "Oh well, I suppose you'll just have to tell me about yourself then." Rip smirked, he knew a little about Jonah's life, from his research with Gideon, but he knew there was a lot more he didn't know, that history didn't know.

Jonah rolled his eyes. "Fine. But you're gonna have to give me an explanation on why you're so weird. I know you ain't from Britain. So you gotta tell me the truth, cause somethin' ain't right about you." Rip nodded, he knew he would have to tell Jonah, it was inevitable, even if he could get in big trouble with the Timemasters, yet, he didn't mind. He was worried about Jonah's reaction, and worried Jonah wouldn't believe him, but for some reason, he wasn't worried about what the Timemasters would do, maybe he was being foolish. 

"You first." Rip encouraged. "When did you first meet Turnbull?" Rip was truly curious.

"I knew his son, Jeb Turnbull. We was in the army together. Quentin was a superior, but not in our unit. He didn't know me, but I knew him from Jeb. The rest doesn't matter." Jonah couldn't make eye contact with Rip, nor could he open up, because he knew if he shared too much he would get too attached to the stranger, and if he got attached...Rip would die, but he couldn't think about that right now so he focused on the conversation. "Your turn." He deflected. Jonah was extremely uncomfortable talking about this time in his life, he wasn't proud of it, it was a time he was ashamed of.

Rip nodded, he knew the time had to come, he just didn't want it to be that exact moment. But, he had promised. Jonah had shared when it obviously made him uncomfortable, so it wouldn't be fair of him to deny Jonah the truth. "I'm a time traveler." He said. "I come from the future, my mother died and I was left on my own, pretty quickly the Timemasters, my employers, picked me up and put me in a foster home they had created for children that had no place in the world. I was raised and trained to become a time master myself." He paused for a moment before backpedaling from the silence. "I'm sorry you really didn't need to know all of that, I could've just said I'm a time traveler. I'm a little nervous." Jonah sat there with an expression Rip couldn't quite place. He was clearly thinking, but the silence was killing Rip. 

"What does a Timemaster do? When're you from, an what're you doing here? How'd you get here?" Jonah asked. It wasn't the reaction Rip had expected. He had expected disbelief, which this was, but it seemed more like curiosity. no matter what it was, it was a relief. 

"We travel through time making sure time happens the way it's supposed to . I'm from the early 2000nds, however my life is in 2166. I travel using my Waverider, she's a 'space ship' of sorts" Rip made quotations.

"Can I see it?" Jonah asked. Rip shook his head.

"I'm afraid that could have a catastrophic effect on history." 

"Sounds to me like the 'Timemasters' just restrict free will. Sounds like they take away any right to choose your own destiny. Like they have an idea of how history is _supposed_ to go, instead of letting it do what's natural, they try and control it. People who meddle with the natural order o' things tend to get hit in face by karma." Rip just ignored him. He had gone through years of conditioning by the Timemasters, to believe what they told him without question. A few words from Jonah Hex wasn't going to change his feelings towards the organization. 

"Tell me more, I'm bored." Rip said, trying to keep the conversation from dying.

Jonah looked down, obviously remember something painful. "I got Jeb killed, got lots o' people killed, government wants me dead. So I moved here, just tryna' live my life, when Quentin showed up. He started controlin' the law enforcement. I just ignored it at first, even ignored it when he started runnin' businesses outta' town and taken em' over. But when he started kill'n people, that's when I had'ta do somethn'." After Rip had shared his story, no matter how crazy, Jonah figured he could trust him. He still didn't want the guy to get hurt, but he couldn't help being hopeful of the possibility of Rip, Jonah had been lonely for a long time, and he was falling for the promise of a friend, a companion, someone to share the experience that was life with.

"I'm so sorry, that must've been hard." Rip had always had a hard time with emotional conversations. He had never been great at empathizing or sympathizing, it wasn't that he didn't care about what the people were talking about, or their feelings, it just made him uncomfortable and feel lost. He wanted to help, but he never knew how. 

Jonah looked down again. "I got Jeb killed. And if Quentin knew me, he'd think the same thing." Rip reached out his hand and put atop Jonah's. Jonah watched him carefully, not sure how to feel. Rip could see the wheels turning in his head on whether he should pull his hand away or leave it. 

It had gotten dark and late, so they started to saddle up. 

On the ride back to Calvert the conversation started back up again, and Rip told him about the foster home and his foster mother, he told him about his love, Miranda, and how she had sacrificed her career, even their relationship, for him. He told Jonah about how he and Miranda decided to take a break from their relationship, until the Timemasters were off their backs.

They made their way into town and to the house where Jonah was renting a room. Jonah tied his horse up out front with the other residents horses. He motioned for Rip to follow him.

"Tie him up." Jonah ordered. "How far are you?" He asked looking suspicious. 

"A little over thirty minutes walking. I haven't learned the time by horse yet" Rip answered. Jonah looked around for moment, before he said.

"Give your horse a break, you can stay with me." He motioned to the door. Rip got off Obsidian and tied him up. He followed Jonah up stairs and into a room with a bed, a dresser, and a sink and mirror. It was a very small room. It was cozy, but it made him appreciate the space of the Waverider. Rip yawned and Jonah stared at him for a moment. Rip wasn't sure why, he knew that people yawned in every time period, that wasn't something that would ever change, so he was confused by Jonah's reaction.

"You're tired." Jonah said. 

"Yes, it's been a long day." Rip answered him.

"Lay down. go to sleep." Jonah motioned to his bed for Rip to rest. Then, he walked over between the bed and window, took his jacket off and lied on the hard wood floor. Rip looked at him confused.

"What are you doing?" He asked in an amused tone. Jonah opened one eye to look at Rip.

"Sleeping." He said, then closed his eye again.

"Not there. don't be ridiculous Jonah, you're sleeping in y _our_ bed." God, he sounded like his mother. She was strict in a loving way, and she always called Rip and the other kids out on their stupidity. 

"I'm used to the ground, I was in the war, remember." Jonah said. Rip rolled his eyes.

"Bullshit. Get up here." Rip said patting the bed. Jonah growled but got up and sat on the bed anyway. "Now, if you need your space _I_ can sleep on the floor, it's your room." It was a suggestion that really had no merit. Rip knew Jonah wouldn't let him sleep on the floor, but he started to get up anyway. Jonah had lied down on the covers and closed his eyes. When Rip had started up Jonah shot his hand out and grabbed Rips wrist as fast as a rattlesnake striking, without even opening his eyes. "Don't." Was all he said, and Rip lied back down.

~

When Rip woke up Jonahs coat was on top of him as a blanket and Jonah was nowhere to be seen. He went downstairs to find Jonah sitting at a table eating with an extra plate of food next to him, toast already with beans on them, just like home. The sight made Rip smile. He sat down next to Jonah and Jonah pushed the plate of food toward Rip. 

After that, the two men spent their days following Turnbull and listening in on the crew, riding their horses, drinking, and practicing their aim. They easily fell into a routine of domestic behavior, with Rip sleeping at Jonahs place more often than not, and Rip was getting used to life in the west. He hardly thought about having to return to the future anymore, and was having fun everyday just spending time with his partner in bounty hunting. 

~

Rip woke up in his own bed on the Waverider for the first time in a while. Gideon was playing her favorite alarm song. 

♪ Wake up. Don't go back to sleep. You're late for work. Wake up. You're late. Wake up. You're late. ♪

Rip tore out of the Waverider and grabbed Obsidian but he had time to trot to Calvert. After a while of trotting Rip figured Obsidian's legs were stretched enough so he started him into a run. When he made it into the town he found Jonah in front of the saloon waiting for him. That had become their spot to meet up when Rip slept in the Waverider. They set off into their usual patterns and went about their day like usual with Rip sleeping at Jonah's again that night. Turnbull had threatened the tailor shop owner that Rip had spoken to more than a week ago. Turnbull and his crew were nothing but gangsters in a time right before the term, Rip thought. 

"You refuse our protection, I can't help you. If somethin" Turnbull paused. " _Bad_ were to happen..." Turnbull held a lit match loosely in his hand, threatening to drop it on some dry rags next to him. The tailor looked terrified.

"Okay! Okay, I'll do it. I'll pay you the money." The tailor said.

"Well ain't you a smart one." Turnbull exclaimed putting the match out. 

Rip was forgetting why he was there to begin with. He had forgotten to find Arthur Ridge, and he had forgotten that he had interfered with historic events when he saved that man outside the saloon the first day he had been there, or maybe he just didn't care to remember. Rip would get in trouble for all of this when he got back, yet, he wasn't thinking about any of it, he was too distracted with the time period, his life, and the heroism that came with the era. 

~

It was morning, and Rip and Jonah follow their regular routine, getting up and ready for the day. Jonah had awoke before Rip, as always. They went downstairs to the community center where everyone in the building eats breakfast. They sat down at a table with plates of food and started talking. Rip was distracted helping a woman who had dropped her clutch. While Rip was distracted Jonah swiped his toast with beans off his plate and took a bite. He put the toast back on the plate before Rip turned back around. When he did, he saw the bite mark out of the toast and looked over at Jonah with amusement. "Did you just...?" Rip asked.

"Yeah, and I was right. It tastes like shit." Jonah teased in as teasing a tone as he could ever get.

"Yes, well I grew fond of it while growing up eating it every morning. It was only on special occasions that I would get jam." Rip explained. Not even offended.

"It's not that bad." Jonah said reluctantly. He looked down shyly, which Rip had noticed him do quite more frequently these days. He figured Jonah wasn't great in social situations and was uncomfortable interacting with people in a genuine way, since most of his interactions were negative. In truth, Jonah _was_ embarrassed by a lot of friendly social interactions because he wasn't used to it and never knew if he was doing right. It wasn't a characteristic that Rip would expect from someone like Jonah, but it was the little things that Rip noticed him do that pointed to some social anxiety. The fact that Rip and Jonah were getting close, showed Rip a different side of the man. Jonah was getting more comfortable to be genuine around Rip, making his discomfort and anxiety more frequent. 

~

Jonah had sensed that Turnbull was up to something big. It tore Rip apart, but, even though he knew what Turnbull was planning, he also knew he couldn't tell Jonah anything for fear of changing the timeline. 

It was around noon, Rip and Jonah were walking down the street about to find Turnbull after having their free lunch at the saloon, when they happened upon him. He was in front of the Sheriff station shouting at the Sheriff.

"John Henry! You get out here! You lily livered coward! You've got in my way for the last time!" Turnbull yelled.

Rip heard Jonah make a guttural sound out of anger. The sheriff appeared, stepping out onto the porch. It was odd that Rip didn't see any men around Turnbull. He wondered if Jonah had noticed or if he was too focused on his hatred. 

"Ya hear that Calvert!" Turnbull exclaimed, head thrown back and arms spread. "I'm the new sheriff round these parts! Anyone got a problem, they come to me!" 

Before Rip could register what was happening, a shot rang out. When he gathered his senses he saw the Sheriff lying on the ground with blood pouring out of his side. He was dead. He saw Jonah running toward Turnbull. That idiot! He was going to get himself killed. Rip saw Turnbull raise his gun, the bastard was smirking. Rip knew he had to act. He pulled his revolver out and took aim. He felt a quick sting, and then his chest felt hot. Rip hadn't even heard a shot. Suddenly he couldn't breathe. He saw Jonah stop in his tracks. Jonah looked back at Rip, then at Turnbull who had a large grin on his face, then at Rip again for a long moment that felt like an eternity. Rip saw a frustrated Jonah jogging back at him. Rip felt strong hands pull him up, he was still in shock and didn't feel any pain, but he figured he had been shot. 

"He's got sharp shooters!" Jonah said angrily as he threw Rips arm around his shoulders. Jonah had one hand on Rip's waist to keep him standing, and one on his stomach to steady him. Jonah had obviously made the decision that Turnbull wasn't going to kill them in that very vulnerable moment, because he had put his gun away and was now dragging Rip in the opposite direction with his back turned to the gang leader.

Rip was fighting to stay conscious. He still didn't feel any pain, just cold. "You've lost a lotta' blood." Rip heard Jonah say. If he wasn't still in shock he may have heard concern in Jonahs voice. 

"Take me to the Waverider." Rip told Jonah. He started to slip back unconscious but Jonah gently shook him back. 

"Where?" Jonah asked. Rip wasn't sure if he was asking what the Waverider was or if he was asking where it was. 

"Obsidian will take you." Rip said, hoping that was enough information.

When he woke up again he was being held up by Jonah's arms under his shoulders. They were on a horse, so he figured they were riding to the Waverider. Jonah had used Rips shirt as a tourniquet around his chest and Rip realized he was wearing Jonahs jacket for warmth. 

They arrived at the Waverider and Gideon uncloaked, revealing herself to Jonah. "Stay here. I'll get myself to the med bay. If I don't return in twenty minutes, then and only then, can you go in and make sure I haven't passed out before getting there." Rip saw Jonah about to protest so he elaborated. "Gideon will help keep me awake." That seemed to relax Jonah a smidge. Rip thought about it later, and realized it was probably because Jonah didn't know about Gideon. He probably thought she was a real person. Jonah obviously wasn't happy about Rips plan, but he trusted him, so he didn't argue. 

"Gideon will inform you when it's been twenty minutes." Rip told Jonah. Rip made his way into the Waverider and left Jonah outside. The door closed behind him and Jonah stared at it in a way Rip had never seen him stare before. It was half awe and half horror. Gideon camouflaged again. Thinking back on it, Rips plan to keep Jonah from seeing the inside of the Waverider was horrible and should have, by all rights, gotten him killed. 

~

"Gideon, it been twenty minutes yet?" Jonah asked.

"No, It's been five, Mr. Hex." Gideon replied. Jonah was half relieved and half disappointed. He wanted to see the inside of the Waverider, but he knew if he did, Rip would probably be dead. It wasn't worth it. 

The waiting was the worst part. Rip might have been the one shot, but Jonah was the one feeling the pain. It wasn't long before Rip walked out as good as new, a clean shirt and everything. Rip was wearing Jonahs coat still, it bellowed behind him as the door opened and a burst of wind flew in. Rip swore he almost heard Jonah let out a sigh of relief, but he couldn't be sure, it was over as quickly as it came. Jonah wanted to hug Rip, but instead, all he said was "you're not dead." He gave a quick nod. "Good. Been gettin' used to ya bein' around."

Obsidian walked over to Rip and stood in front of him, waiting for Rip to pet his head. Rip reached under Obsidians head and pet his jaw. The two men rode back to town, Jonah backseat driving the whole time. Jonah definitely had trouble trusting other people to be in control, which only made Rip appreciate the times Jonah let Rip be in control of things even more. 

"You need to steer him over there. Push with your opposite thigh and tap lightly with your other foot. You also want to pull the reins to the side." Jonah explained pointing. 

"Thank you, but I know how to ride Jonah. I just like Obsidian to decide how we get where we're going. He knows the way, but I will steer him if he gets off track. It makes the journey more interesting for the both of us. I don't know the way he's going to take me, and he still gets where we need to be. You just have to trust him." Rip said. He knew _trust_ wasn't Jonah's strong suit. 

~

Rip and Jonah decided to lay low for a while. They wouldn't walk through town in daylight unless absolutely necessary. "what I don't understand is why he didn't just kill us then? He could have easily done it. But instead he let us escape." Rip said laying on his back on Jonahs bed twirling his hat on his finger. They had been sitting in silence before Rip broke it to talk about Turnbull. 

"Don't over think it. What's important is getting another chance to kill him." Jonah said.

"It matters though. If he had a reason for sparing us, it matters deeply. We could use the knowledge to our advantage." Rip tried to convince Jonah. Jonah had always been simultaneously one of the luckiest and unluckiest men in the world. He had survived so many things. It was almost like a god wanted him alive just to suffer. If he started questioning why he didn't die now, he'd drive himself insane. Jonah knew he would never get an answer to why he was always the one to survive disaster.

Rip had always used logic, tricky tactics, and a lot of luck to survive battle, but he never made plans _based_ on luck, that was something Jonah could do that Rip admired. Luck just happened upon Rip, where Jonah knew how to use it. Either that, or Jonah didn't care if he died or not. Rip knew Jonah had a death wish, but he also knew that Jonah didn't want to die until Turnbull was rid of this world. 

After a while, Rip got Jonah to open up a little more about his past, mainly the things Rip hadn't been able to read from historic logs. Jonah shared the whole story behind him and Turnbull, he shared the story behind how he grew up and became the person he is today. Learning about Jonahs past helped Rip understand him in the present, however, the pain in Jonahs eyes was unbearable to watch, but Rip knew he couldn't look away. 

Jonah needed reassurance and Rip couldn't deny him that. As they sit in silence Rip couldn't help his mind drifting to Miranda and the affect it had on him when she was hurting. It was the same feeling he felt now. Miranda was very different from Jonah, she expressed her feelings, when something was bothering her, she would want to talk about it. Miranda was Rip's emotional rock, but Rip needed to be Jonah's. Jonah was gruff, silent, blunt, and when something was bothering him, he would bury it deep inside. Rip would have to ask when something was bothering Jonah, but he appreciated the willingness Jonah had to share if asked at the right moment, even when it was painful. Jonah and Miranda were two very different people, yet the way Rip felt about them was eerily similar.

~

Rip and Jonah went to every shop in town, they had conversations with the locals and came up with a plan to drive Turnbull and his men out of Calvert. 

The two men walked back to Jonahs room. Jonah looked at Rip for a long moment, he had felt Rip's mind somewhere else for a while. Jonah knew Rip was probably going to leave once this mission was over, a part of him wanted to prolong it in hopes of keeping Rip longer, but he couldn't do that to the town and it's innocent people. This was no matter to be selfish about.

~

When Turnbull arrived in town the next morning he was met by all of the townspeople. The entire town had gathered together and were now standing in the middle of the street with weapons pointed at Turnbull and any men he had brought with him. 

"You get out'a our town and you never come back! ya hear me!" The butcher warned Turnbull. He had a shotgun in his hands that he was pointing straight at Turnbull. Jonah let out a shot in the air as a warning. 

"Get!" He yelled, and the other townspeople started shouting at Turnbull as well. Rip couldn't make out what anyone was saying however. It was invigorating.

After a few minutes of shouts, warning shots, and threatening postures, Quentin Turnbull and his crew left the town. 

~

Everything reminded Rip of Miranda in this era, not that she would have like it there or even tolerated it. Actually, Miranda would have _hated_ the old west, but everything made rip think of her. The feeling that he got when he would eat breakfast with Jonah. The feeling of riding Obsidian through the grassy plains. The feeling he got when he looked into Jonahs eyes or saw the relief and gratefulness on someone's face that he had just saved from tragedy. It felt like home. Miranda was home to him, but the longer he stayed in the west, the more that time period started to feel like home. 

Rip and Jonah had been in Jonahs room, they had been completely silent for what was probably hours. Both of them knowing Rip would have to leave soon. Rip knew his mission wasn't over just yet, but he had also been keeping an eye on the date and knew it was almost time for him to go. Rip had been going to the Waverider every few days to check on the timeline, and so far, everything was going to plan and pretty soon Arthur Ridge, along with the rest of the town of Calvert, would be dead. Rip hated that he couldn't do anything about the fate of this town, but, he had messed with the timeline once on his trip here when he saved that man from Turnbull on his first day in 1868. Rip wouldn't be afforded any more mishaps this mission, if he stopped the tragedy about to come, he would be risking everything, something he just couldn't do. Rip would lose his job and his freedom, the Timemasters would most definitely imprison him for his crime, but worst of all, he'd lose Miranda and the life they had planned to build. 

~

Rip was sitting in bed, Jonah beside him asleep. He was weighing his options, trying to find a loophole that meant he could stay. He knew he had to leave before Jonah woke up or he never would. Rip couldn't be there when the events of the next morning ensued, he knew that, yet he didn't want to leave. He thought about Miranda and how he would never see her again if he got himself killed staying in a town he knew was doomed. She would never forgive him. Rip had known from the start that he wouldn't be able to stay in that era, but he never knew it would be this hard. 

"Goodbye, my friend." He said watching Jonah's face twitch a little in sleep. "I will truly miss you." He said moving hair off of Jonahs forehead. "We shall meet again someday, of that, I have no doubts." He got out of bed. Rip snatched Jonah's coat from the corner of the room and put it on, slipping into the street and heading back to the Waverider.

Rip had Gideon synthesize a new, fire resistant, coat, knowing what the future had in store for Jonah. He hoped he could ensure the survival of his friend, the one member of this town that was supposed to survive. He hoped the coat would help ease some of the pain Jonah was about to feel. 

Rip snuck the coat back into Jonah's room, careful not to wake him. That morning when Jonah woke up, Rip would be gone.

~

Jonah woke to heavy footsteps walking coming up the stairs. Rip was nowhere to be seen. He heard the footsteps get louder and louder, one after another. Thump. Thump. Thump. Soon the person responsible was outside his door. Jonah heard the sound of a door down the hall being broken in. He heard a woman screaming. "No, please! Please don't hurt us! Let go of me! Get away from my son!" Jonah could now see the shadow of feet under the door. He threw his jacket on and ran to the window, he opened it. He was on the second floor, but he figured a broken leg was better than what was coming for him. The door broke open and Jonah saw one of Turnbull's men standing in the doorway. 'Awe fuck!' He thought. Jonah tried for the window but the man quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him back in. Jonah was now in a tight headlock. He scratched at the man's arm that was around his neck, when that didn't work he stomped on the man's foot as hard as he could.

"Shit!" Jonah heard the guy cry. Jonah felt a jab in the back of knee forcing him to the ground. He could feel a gun poking his back now. He raised his hands to his head in surrender. 

"Get up!" The man barked. Jonah slowly climbed to his feet with his hands still behind his head. The man pushed Jonah forward as a way of telling him to start walking. As Jonah made his way down the hall and out into the street, he wasn't the only one being led somewhere. There were men, women, and children all being gathered up and forced to walk to an unknown location, presumably to be killed. It didn't matter if the person was elderly or sick, they were all being handled with the same force. Jonah looked around for Rip. In that moment he hoped Rip was gone. Jonah worried Rip had been in town when the raid happened, just having eyes on his partner would make him feel increasingly better. However, the knowledge that Rip had probably left and was now safe from harm, relieved Jonah of most of his fear for the man. 

The town finished their march and were forced into the church on the edge of town. Jonah looked around for Rip, still nowhere to be seen. This was a good sign. He decided Rip must have left. It angered Jonah, while also relieving him. He had no idea what was in store and wasn't sure if he wanted Rip caught up in it, but it still hurt that Rip had left him. Jonah saw an elderly woman pushed to the ground by one of Turnbull's men. A nearby woman helped the old lady up so Jonah decided to go for the perpetrator. Jonah knocked the man over by tackling him. The man punched and kicked back, but Jonah was pounding his face in rage. He struck the man repeatedly, feeling bone crack beneath his knuckles. Jonah felt a pain on the back of his head and everything went dark. 

When Jonah woke up the church was ablaze and the townspeople were trying to put it out before it grew too big. He got up and immediately started helping. "What happened?" He asked the man next to him. The man he was speaking to owned the bank in town, and everyone knew his name. "Everett! What happened!?" Jonah repeated.

"Turnbull! He set the buildin' on fire! He smashed a lantern then locked the doors behind him!" Everett answered. "You got hit pretty hard on the head son. Are you okay?" 

"Fine! Let's just try an' get this fire out." Jonah had taken his coat off and was trying to smother the flames with some of the other townspeople. It was no use, the fire was just getting bigger and smoke was starting to fill the room. Jonah hadn't even had time to realize that this wasn't his regular coat.

in a panic, some of the men had taken to trying to bust the Church doors open, while the women frantically tried to stomp the flames out. Jonah realized the fire was not going to stop. He went to the doors and tried to break them open with the other men. It was getting hard to see, smoke stinging his eyes. He heard people coughing and felt the heat of the fire on his back as he tried to ram his body into the doors. The room was getting warm fast. The fire was a straight line cutting across the Church, separating Jonah and the men he was with from the rest of the town. There was hardly enough room for all of the people in the Church at one time, and now they had to share that space with a growing fire. Jonah heard a woman cry out in pain. He looked over and saw her holder her hand. He finally saw an opening in the flames. He took that opening. Jonah jumped to the other side of the room to be with the majority of people. He was watching the flames crawl closer to the doors and the people trying to pry them open.

"You gotta jump through! You're gonna die if you stay there!" He told the men. He felt smoke burning his lungs as he spoke, a layer of ash particles covering his throat. The fire crept closer and closer to the people, forcing them to back into the side of the Church. They were cornered against a wall. Jonah saw a little boy lay flat on the ground. Jonah heard the boy tell his mother

"Mama, it's cooler down here! I can breathe better." The boy's mother joined him on the ground. Jonah watched as many of the other people followed. The flames were even closer now. 

Jonah could barely see or breathe, his eyes stung and his throat was so dry he couldn't stop coughing. Everyone was forced to back up again, pressing against the wall and anyone behind them. The flames licked at Jonahs hands. Jonah grabbed the boy next to him putting his body between the boy and the fire. He heard the boy's mother cry in pain.

"Mama!" The boy yelled. Jonah squeezed him closer, hiding the child from the flames the best he could. he heard screams of pain fill the church. The air was hot and painful to breathe, flames licking his cheek and hands as he tried to protect the child's head. He closed his eyes waiting for the pain to stop. Jonah didn't expect to survive this. He had felt pain before, he had been shot two times, stabbed, clawed by a puma, and punched countless times, but Jonah had never felt pain like this. His face felt like it was melting, his nerve endings dying. Jonah grit his teeth trying to keep his screams at bay. The pained cries of the people echoed through the church. He could hear everyone's screams starting from little girls and ending at old men. The room was dry and hot and felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from it. The pained cries filling the room slowly died out. Jonah wasn't sure if that meant there were less people alive or if there wasn't enough oxygen left to scream. 

Jonah felt a breeze of cool air. He looked up and saw that the fire had burnt a part of the wall down. He slowly, but as quickly as he could, got to his feet and carrying himself and the boy in his arms to safety. Pain filled Jonahs body. He was on the verge of collapse. Jonah took a deep breath of fresh air, lungs still burning from the smokes damage. He set the child down on the ground, he was about to go back in to get anyone else still alive when the world got fuzzy. His head started to spin. Jonah's body felt heavy all of a sudden, and he fell to the ground, the world getting dark.

~

Jonah woke to find the aftermath of the destruction. The entire town was burnt beyond repair. Bodies covered the floor of the church, the little boy's mother among them. Jonah's head spun, he felt as though he might pass out again. Horror written over his face. fourth degree burns spread from his jaw to his cheek, bone visible in some places. Jonah was filled with anger, he swore if he ever saw Turnbull again, he would kill him, no matter the cost.

When Jonah returned to the boy, to see if he had survived, it was clear the boy hadn't. Jonah felt a familiar surge of sorrow and horror fill his body. He had tried to save as many people as he could, but yet again, he had been the only one left behind to remember the traumatic event. yet again, Hex couldn't breathe. 

Seeing all those bodies, burnt and unrecognizable, made Jonah wonder if Rip had known what was about to happen. Rip had left conveniently before this tragedy, he must have known hadn't he? 


	2. Deleted Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here are all the deleted scenes that I had written but felt out of place for the story, or I just felt wasn't necessary. I was too attached to these to completely delete them though, so I thought I would post them for you guys, in case you wanted a little more romance in the story as a whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these scenes were edited a whole lot, because I decided they weren't going to be in the story. So, most of these scenes are short, and not at these same quality level as the entire story. Like I said in the last chapter notes, I am not the best at writing romantic scenes, so in the romantic scenes, the characters seem sort of out of character. Don't say I didn't warn you!

**-In the morning-**

Rip woke up to Jonah sitting on the bed watching him. Jonah realized that he was staring and quickly gave a fond smile. "Mornin'." Jonah said in the softest voice he had, which wasn't very soft considering his usual gravel on top of his gravely morning voice, which Rip couldn't deny was 'objectively' pretty sexy.

"How long have you been awake?" Rip asked concerned. 

"Not long. Maybe an hour." Jonah said, giving more information than he usually would.

"Do you always get up this early?" Rip asked. Jonah nodded, still smiling. Rip smiled back.

**-Jonahs scars-**

Jonah was covered in Rips blood, but he hadn't changed, which made Rip wondered if Jonah owned any other clothes. He wasn't sure where he stood on asking something like that, but he thought he should try, seeing as Gideon could just make the man new clothes. "You're covered in blood you know." That was the best that Rip could come up with. It sounded bad the second he heard it. Rip internally flinched at his lack of tact. 

"Oh, really. Didn't realize." Jonah said looking down. Rip wasn't sure if that was sarcasm or not but since Jonah didn't seem to care at all, Rip decided it wasn't. When Jonah did nothing about it Rip decided to pry a little more.

"Are you going to change?" Rip asked, hoping he didn't offend his friend. Jonah said nothing, but he walked over to the dresser and got out a shirt. Rip noticed it was the only thing in there. Apparently he was right when he thought Jonah didn't have any other clothes. 

Jonah took his shirt off and threw it on the floor. Rip was about to ask him if they had trash cans in the old west, which was really something he should have thought to ask Gideon before entering the era, when he noticed multiple scars on Jonahs chest. There appeared to be two bullet wounds, and multiple knife and claw marks. Jonah had a bullet wound on his stomach, and one on his ribs, he had a claw mark on his left pectoral muscle along with several other long scars covering his sides and back. Rip was so curious that he almost didn't notice how muscular Jonah was. "I'm sorry to pry, you don't have to answer this, but..." Rip paused a moment. He got off the bed and walked over to Jonah, they stood facing each other for about a minute. "Would you mind telling me the stories behind your scars?" Rip hovered his hand above the claw print. They looked each other in the eyes in silence. Jonah gently grabbed Rips hand and slowly lowered it. He walked to the other side of the room, turning his back from Rip. Rip worried he had asked too much of his friend this time, until Jonahs voice broke the silence.

"Got it from a puma." Jonah said. Rip assumed he meant the scratch. Jonah turned back around and stared at the ground for a moment. He moved to the bed where he sat on the edge. He glanced at Rip for a quick second. "Saved the chief from it. I was sold to the Apache at thirteen. My old man couldn't support me anymore." Jonah looked away as Rip walked to the edge of the bed crouching in front of him. 

"You were a slave." Rip said, it wasn't really a question, it was more of a statement. Rip knew part of this story from his research on Jonah. Rip knew that Hex's father had sold him due to a lack of money because he had spent it on alcohol.

"At first." Jonah could see sadness in Rip's eyes, and Rip saw sorrow in Jonah's.

"And this one?" Rip asked touching the scar on Jonahs ribs. 

"Bullet. I was abandoned by my brother when we were surrounded by our rival tribe, the Kiowa. A cavalry patrol saved me, but, I got this..." He motioned at the scar. "When I tried to save the Kiowa from slaughter. I was shot an' bleedin' out, I was saved by an old trapper livin' in the forest." 

"What about this one?" Rip motioned to a scar on Jonah's side.

"My old man." That was all Rip was going to get out of that one. Rip just tapped the other bullet mark lightly. 

"I surrendered to the Union, when I was in the war I realized it wasn't about succession, well, not completely. I saw slaves and the way people would talk about them. I could support people wanting to succeed from their nation, mainly because I hated the government for the removal and relocation of native tribes, but I couldn't support the enslavement of people. so I surrendered, I didn't want to fight for the Confederate anymore, but I couldn't fight my friends either. So I was gonna wait out the war in prison. Till my camp was found thanks to the mud on my horses shoes. We were all put in war prisons. They were overcrowded, understaffed, and their wasn't enough food for everyone. Disease was rampant. I found a hole leadin' out o' the prison in my cell. I didn't know that..." He paused. talking about this was clearly painful for him. Rip took Jonahs hands in his. Jonah looked at Rip, the gesture was reassuring and he continued. "I didn't know the Union put it there so they could claim they shot us tryin' to escape. I did exactly what they wanted." Jonah couldn't take his eyes off the floor now. "Like us, the Union knew there weren't enough room for all the prisoners. So they orchestrated a massacre. I led my troop, my _friends_ to their death. This is a reminder of that." He touched his scar. "My friend Jeb died in that massacre." 

"I'm so terribly sorry, Jonah." Rip said. They stayed in the position they had been sitting in for a while. Jonah was on the edge of the bed, leaning over with his hands cupped together, Rip holding his hands kneeling in front of Jonah. The pain in Jonahs eyes was unbearable to watch, but Rip knew he couldn't look away. Jonah needed reassurance and Rip couldn't deny him that. As they sit in silence Rip couldn't help his mind drifting to Miranda and the affect it had on him when she was hurting. It was the same feeling he felt now. Miranda was very different from Jonah, she expressed her feelings, when something was bothering her, she would want to talk about it. Miranda was Rip's emotional rock, but Rip needed to be Jonah's. Jonah was gruff, silent, blunt, and when something was bothering him, he would bury it deep inside. Rip would have to ask when something was bothering Jonah, but he appreciated the willingness Jonah had to share if asked at the right moment, even when it was painful. Jonah and Miranda were two very different people, yet the way Rip felt about them was eerily similar.

**-Another morning-**

Rip woke up to Jonah staring at him again. This was becoming a regular thing. Rip felt warmth rising in his chest. He smiled at Jonah and greeted him. "Good morning. Awake again I see." Rip observed. They went about their usual morning routine. They knew they would have to act against Turnbull and his crew soon. They had been watching Turnbull's men walk around, drink, threaten, and destroy the town like they owned the place. Before things got worse, they'd have to do something. 

The Kiss-

Rip hadn't realized it, being lost in thought, but he and Jonah had met in the middle of his very small room and were now standing extremely close with was very little room between them. Rip could feel Jonah's breath on his. Looking into Jonahs eyes was like staring into his soul. In that moment Rip could feel everything Jonah was. Rip should have felt compelled to look away, but Jonahs eyes were filled with so much emotion, Rip couldn't look away, he felt drawn in. There was a long moment were everything stood still.

It felt like an eternity before Jonah finally leaned in slowly, connecting their lips gently. He had one hand on Rips cheek, the other by his side. The kiss was gentle, heartfelt, and warm. Rip kissed Jonah back, putting a hand up to rest on the back of Jonahs neck. Once Rip returned the kiss their kiss deepened and Rip felt weightless. 

Rip draped his arm over Jonahs shoulder, his other hand tangled in Jonahs short hair. Jonah backed Rip up over to the bed, still kissing him with a passion Rip had only ever felt from Miranda. Jonah slowly laid Rip down on his back. he was now on top of Rip, their limbs tangled together. All thoughts of Miranda were pushed to the back of Rips mind.

**-Rip leaving-**

Rip was sitting in bed, Jonah beside him sleeping. This time Rip was the one staring at Jonah. Rip now understood why Jonah did it, it helped him think watching Jonah's face as he slept. Looking at Jonah's face without the judgment or questioning that would ensue if he was awake, helped Rip weigh his options and consider the consequences of staying. He knew he had to leave before Jonah woke up or he never would. Rip couldn't be there when the events of the next morning ensued, he knew that, yet he didn't want to leave. He thought about Miranda and how he would never see her again if he got himself killed staying in a town he knew was doomed. She would never forgive him. Rip had known from the start that he wouldn't be able to stay in that era, but he never knew it would be this hard. "Goodbye, my friend he said watching Jonah's face twitch a little in sleep. "I will truly miss you." He said moving hair off of Jonahs forehead. Rip took Jonahs hand, he raised it to his mouth. "We shall meet again someday, of that, I have no doubts." He kissed Jonah's hand lightly and got out of bed. Rip snatched Jonah's coat from the corner of the room and put it on, slipping into the street and heading back to the Waverider.

Rip had Gideon synthesize a new, fire resistant, coat, knowing what the future had in store for Jonah. 

Rip snuck the coat back into Jonah's room, careful not to wake him. That morning when Jonah woke up, Rip would be gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire story was inspired by the first episode in Legends of Tomorrow when we meet Jonah Hex, as well as Jonah's back story, so I got a little carried away with his story as seen in the scene "Jonah's Scars".

**Author's Note:**

> I told you it wasn't going to end well. But don't worry! I'm planning on making this a series called "Salvation". There will be three stories after this one, all based on the Legends Episodes where they go back to salvation.  
> -I really enjoyed writing this fic and I put a lot of effort into it, so if you guys liked it, it would mean a lot to me if you comment!-


End file.
